The walk through the foggy forest was quiet, devoid of animal life around. The crunching leaves and squashed branches beneath their feet were all that was around them. They likely hold the belief that he is a formidable predator, Kyle pondered as he observed the hellhound who introduced himself as Malik. Despite the intimidating stature, Kyle didn’t sense anything wicked from him. If only others shared his perspective.

Kyle strongly believed his choice mirrored Ronan’s. Focus on keeping the people safe from the Pencari, no matter what. However, the mocking glances that he sensed gnawing on his back were proving to be a challenge. He focused on his mother and little brother, ignoring it as best he could. He wondered about their emotions regarding the decision he made on their behalf, and if they had faith in his judgement. Regrettably, the answer had to wait momentarily.

For now, he resolved to familiarize himself with these individuals to confidently respond to Ronan if needed. He centered on the man in front of him; another hellhound who called himself Faizan. His walk was almost graceful, each step performing with elegance. His long hair flowing like a gentle stream; void of meager humidity frizz. It was a sight to behold; something that he knew a lot of women wished they had. Limited resources made cleanliness a pleasure, free from dirt, sweat, blood, and insects. Despite his mother’s urging not to, Kyle managed to get closer to Faizan so that he had the chance to tug on his sleeve and inquire, “Hey, would it be possible for me to...talk to you for a bit?””

Faizan raised a brow and turned back. His walking never ceased. “You had the ability to just ask, and not yank on my clothes.”

“Oh, sorry.” Kyle bashfully responded. “I am hoping to learn more about your... people.”

“Then start asking,” Faizan spoke with a bemused tone, “might be your only chance, anyway.”

“Of course,” the other nodded as he pondered what to ask Faizan. “I guess... the first thing to ask is... where do you come from?”

Faizan frowned, remembering back to events that transpired long ago. Processing words to make sense to a race with limited knowledge was difficult. “We come from far away; in the deserts. We came here for a sanctuary after a... An incredibly complex war, if one were to describe it in that way. We are led by Aralt, the one who saved you from those monstrosities. He liberated us from a terrible leader and helped us escape from a leader’s army that wanted to kill us all. After being on the road for nearly a year, we arrived at this destination. It is a lot colder than we’re used to, and the starry skies are obscured by both clouds and trees. Before learning that your kind was still alive, we were satisfied to avoid the Elve’s affairs in order to recover. But... things happened and here we are...”

“Elves?”

“Oh right, you call them Pencari. They are actually Elves.” Faizan pointed at his pointed ears, “They call themselves a Pencari; an organization with their mission being to hunt your kind. We, all outsiders of the situation, just assumed that they wanted more land and used that as a justification, but it seems they were truly sincere." His finger would go to each tree, taking an indirect whiff, trying to find something. “Considering our involvement, I have reservations about whether we made the correct decision, but it’s too late to dwell on hypotheticals, so our focus should be on devising our next plan.”

Kyle nodded, understanding that they had made an enemy of the Pencari, or elves, as he stated. While Aralt fought the Rakshasa like they were playthings, how would he fend off the Pencari? Would he be able to handle them? How was he doing? While questions about him plagued his mind, he focused on asking different queries to Faizan. “You mentioned that Aralt liberated you from a leader? So does your society go by strongest of the fittest?”

Faizan scrunched his face, considering even more about how to answer the question. “Yes and no? It’s a bit complicated to answer rather quickly. While yes, our leader is usually the strongest one of the tribe. It’s also no, because there usually was a balance... checked by our faith healer.” he eyed Malik, still in his dog form. “And also by our steward, which I took that role.” He resumed his search on the trees, whiffing at each one. “But when the old leader took over, he got rid of that and changed it to where he had all the power. It is a lesson that our people will remember for a very long time, one that should never be repeated.”

“I understand,” Kyle murmured as he attempted to come up with any other inquiries, but before he was able to formulate one, Faizan ceased walking. This prompted everyone to stop as well. Malik shifted from the group’s back to the front, transforming into his human shape again. Faizan brought out a small metal whistle that looked like a tiny pipe. Blowing into it, there was no sound, which surprised Kyle. Although, he sensed an unusual throbbing in his head once he started. After a bit, Malik leaned forward and tried to listen in. After another moment, he nodded, “They are ready. We can keep going.”

“I’m... confused.” Kyle interjected, “does your whistle not work?”

“Oh, right.” Malik chuckled, “I guess you never heard of a dog whistle, have you?”

“A dog whistle?”

“Funny enough, your people invented it. A whistle that is inaudible to your kind, but audible to say... dogs and cats,” he grinned. “It became a useful tool for us to call on each other without most races knowing. Surprisingly, elves do not have the ability to detect this whistle as well. The only races capable of hearing it are the Canidae and Felidae, but we can address that later.” He winked and stepped back so they can resume their travel. Kyle raised a brow, really wanting to ask more about this... dog whistle, and the names Canidae and Felidae, but he figured they should focus on getting to safety first.

Faizan whipped his head to the back, his eyes narrowed. “Something’s coming.”

However, they turned back. Despite the absence of any sound, their anxiety continued to escalate. Clustering together, they were bracing themselves for the worst, all focused on the same area Faizan was. Malik took out his weapon, a war hammer from what Kyle had been ‘told’ by Huon as he stepped forward. “You all should head to camp.”

“Hold on, Malik, I am hearing a cart. There might be multiple of them.”

A cart? Kyle pondered, and then realized who it might be. “H-hold on! It might be Raygnar!”

“Raygnar?”

“A friend. He’s not human, a draconic elf. He has a horse-drawn cart, so it might be him!”

The two hellhounds glanced at one another and returned their attention to the source of the noise. Humans there whispered, pondering Raygnar’s identity and its familiarity. Soon, they heard the sound of large wooden wheels speeding through the dirt ground. From the noise, the horse was cantering through the forest with vivacity. Drawing closer to where they were, the black horse which dragged the cart flew from the underbrush. The driver pulled on the reins to get it to stop, “hey! Hey! We’re here! Shit, I think something broke!” Raygnar cursed as they gradually came to a stop. Kyle sensed an unexpected release of all tension as he identified a friendly face. “Raygnar! You made it!”

Malik exclaimed, “we even made sure not to leave any trace, just to be safe! How did you even find us?”

Raygnar chuckled, “Well, if you must know,” He took out his large book and flipped through it. “We were told where the humans would evacuate and we did a process of elimination of the possible places they could go. There were only two directions, and we saw a disturbance in the dirt in this one direction, so we followed through it as fast as possible before we lose it because of natural causes.”

“Stop talking,” Faizan mumbled, “also, whose ‘we’?”

That is when Mrs. Stark poked out and her appearance caused multiple people to run toward the cart, crying in relief to see she was ok. Raygnar shrugged at Faizan with a small smile, “her and a few other kids.”

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“Point taken.”

Kyle and his family were one of the people that jogged to Mrs. Stark, who held a hand to her heart seeing him, “Oh, it brings me great relief to see you all are ok!” She gazed at Kyle before she eyed the rest of the crowd. Mild worry replaced her relief, causing her brow to wrinkle. “Are they... not here? River and Ronan?”

Everyone’s facial expression mimicked Mrs. Stark’s, their excitement dying down real quick. Kyle did his best to console, “They stayed behind to help us escape. I-... I am sure they will be here soon.” Even though he tried to be optimistic, there was a nagging feeling within him that said they might not make it... and it’s just them.

“If there are more, Aralt will bring them back here.” Faizan eyed the direction they were originally going. “We should keep going through. We’re getting closer to our camp. And we can check for any injuries there.”

Mrs. Stark glimpsed at Raygnar. “Can you wait for a bit? Please?” She brought her hand out, shaking a bit, “we need to wait for them.”

The draconic elf gulped, his face screaming in indecisiveness. “I... I mean, I truly emphasize with everything happening. But we’re very vulnerable staying here. Besides, my dad is not back yet, so we might have a hard time defending themselves.”

Faizan blinked, “Dad?”

“Ah, right,” Raygnar snapped his fingers. “You see, I had an emergency spell scroll to summon someone. And because the Pencari was indeed an emergency, I summoned him to help us. So he’s back there as well. I believe he might find us through the wheel tracks.”

“If your father can find the wheel marks, so can the elves,” Malik frowned. “Even more of a reason we should get to camp quickly. I’ll keep an eye out for anyone that might be coming by; friend or foe. Let me cover up the tracks while you all go.” He turned to Faizan and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back.” With a smile, he left to cover up the wheel tracks.

The humans were surprised, while the hellhounds were unfazed. Faizan noticed this and glared at them. “What?”

“Did he... just kiss you?” One human asked in a shaky voice.

“Why is that a--?” Faizan’s voice grew irritant, his glares glowed with a fiery red. A situation that was too familiar to him from his old home. “I suggest you start walking,” the crimson in his eyes intensified, “because I am starting to lose my patience with you ungrateful, entitled lot.”

Most humans were scared and unquestioningly obeyed Faizan’s commands. Kyle’s disapproving gaze silenced potential protestors. With a reluctant sigh, they obeyed, though not without complaining under their breaths. Kyle made his way to Faizan. “I want to apologize on their behalf. It’s behavior that shouldn’t be condoned.”

Faizan expressed his disapproval, saying, “No need for the politics. I am doing this since Aralt and Malik want to. In my opinion, you should handle it yourselves. But I respect my leader and my mate’s decision on the matter. Ensure they refrain from repeating that behavior.”

“I’ll... try.” Kyle tried to smile, but it faltered. Faizan stared at him before he closed his eyes. He started muttering something that Kyle couldn’t comprehend. However, he experienced a tingling sensation, as though he had been drenched with water. The sensation flowed through every crevice of his body, finding its home in his hands. Afterward, Faizan gestured with his hand as if a flower were blooming upwards, emitting a green glow from his hands. Then, just as quickly as it started, it was done. Kyle looked at him confused, “W-what was that?”

“I gave you a ward. It’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing.” Faizan sighed, “I am sensing you humans are fragile, and if this is going to work out...you need some way to defend yourselves.” He continued his trek through the forest, followed by Kyle, Raygnar & his cart, and the rest of the humans.

Finally, they arrived at the Hellhound camp. The camp buzzed with life, featuring distinctive tents. He couldn’t fathom the material the tents were made of, but he speculated that they might have used some kind of animal hide. Intricate designs and patterns caught his attention on some tents, while others were adorned with random collections of fabrics and strings. Long string of lamps connected between tent, casting a warm glow across the camp. The thick air carried the scent of burning firewood, with sounds of cooking and laughter everywhere. Some tents had large kettles dangling over open flames, where men and the children were cooking food, or maybe making a hot drink.

In a moment of realization, Kyle observed the lack of women. Until now, he saw only males. As the humans slowly dispersed, taking in their surroundings, and the Hellhounds became aware of them with curiosity, Kyle whispered to Faizan, “Um. Faizan? Where are all the women?”

There was a long pause, and Faizan held a softer glance. “You have a right to ask. Because no... there is no such thing as female hellhounds. There are only male hellhounds.” He stepped away, leaving Kyle to ponder what had been told to him. “Fellows, Aralt and Malik are still out, so it falls to me on this announcement. If you don’t recall, we approached them for a peaceful conversation, but they were subjected to an attack by the elves. So we brought the ones who survived here, per Aralt’s orders. They are our guests and should be treated as such.”

Afterwards, he closely watched the humans. “As for you. Be respectful without customs and culture. If news of any disrespect you show reaches me through our kin, I will be informed. And I don’t reckon we desire that.” The scathing warning made the humans wince, while the Hellhounds stared at one another. Despite the awkwardness, eventually it diminished. “Oh, by the way,” Faizan spoke to the humans, “Any of the elderly and injured should gather around the cart so we can look over you. While our supplies are limited, we will do what we can.”

After a moment, the elderly, which included Kyle’s mother, and the injured, gathered around Raygnar’s cart. Faizan wandered towards the children and noted their actions, along with their bruises, cuts, and scrapes.. “Hmm...” He contemplated as he examined them, making sure there were no serious injuries on them. When he was done, he smiled softly. “I understand that all of you must be hungry, and I am confident that some of you are thirsty. So... let us start to cook a meal for us all, shall we?”

Some kids smiled and nodded, while others just followed along, staring at the fire in hunger. Faizan gathered other hellhounds to discuss cooking food for humans. Afterwards, he directed a few individuals to obtain medical supplies for the injured.

In the meantime, Raygnar dismounted from his horse and let out a soft sigh. He took his water canteen off of his hip and uncorked it. After taking a couple of gulps, he set it on the floor. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly stopped as the horse let out a whimper. He moved to its front, wearing a puzzled look, and inspected it for any injuries. The horse lifted one of its legs, exposing a stone wedged in between its hooves. Raygnar grumbled at this, exclaiming, “My goodness.” He gently cradled the hoof in his hand and started to examine it closer. “Got you good, huh?” He pulled out a hoof knife from his pack and proceeded to scrape around it, with the hope that the stone would eventually dislodge. It didn’t appear far, so he expected it to come off easily.

Everything proceeded as planned, with Kyle providing the utmost help to his family. The first one patched up was his little brother; a minor burn that was on his arm from when they escaped. But what he saw made him worry: his mother’s swollen and blue bruises. It reminded him of when he found her in the progressing fire at their home... her just laying there as if she was already dead. If it wasn’t for the slight wheezing coming from her, he would’ve thought that she had passed away. His mother became aware of his concern. “I am alright, honey. This is a small price to pay for our survival.”

“I know... I know... can’t help it though,” He whispered to her as he did his best to patch it up. After a short time, he became aware of noise, and it distracted him from focusing. Some hellhounds were sprinting in a certain direction, and when his eyes followed, he realized someone had entered the camp. His cheeks felt warm when he noticed Aralt’s arrival; carrying a body over his shoulders. He was being followed by Stungalm and his hooded friend, hauling an unconscious Ronan with them. While Kyle experienced immense relief, he subsequently recalled the hooded figure. And he shook, remembering what happened back at their old home. He strained to glimpse the hooded figure’s eyes. He was certain he saw those red eyes again, but it was hard to tell since some hellhounds also had red eyes.

Aralt greeted his fellow kin with a smile, “Hey, yeah. Found a few humans. They’re looking bad though. Gonna needs to put them down somewhere. I’ll update you all in the second.” He put them at ease as he turned to what he believed were human. “Follow me for a bit. I got a place where we can put them.”

But before he could do that though, Faizan confronted him, who crossed his arms and frowned. “Not just yet. We must talk.”

“Oh yeah?” Aralt grinned, “about what?”

Faizan didn’t even blink, glaring hard at the hooded figure, “about why there is an elf here. Unbound.”

A pause filled the air as the leader glanced at the hooded figure, who remained still. Thankfully, Faizan kept his question quiet so nobody could listen. Stungalm didn’t react either, almost unphased by the question. Aralt had a hand out to Faizan. “Follow us. I agree that we need to talk.” He kept his growl low to the Elf. “And I mean a long one.”

The facial expressions that Aralt gave caused some hellhounds to whisper amongst themselves, confused about what was happening. But they uttered no questions even when he walked away with the two hooded figured, Faizan, and the unconscious bodies.

Kyle, feeling something is wrong, squeezed his mother’s hand. “I need to head out a bit, mother. I’ll be back soon.” He then jumped off the cart and pursued them. Despite the Pencari’s presence, he had an obligation to fulfill.

If he failed, they might kill him. Someone that could save them from future attack. But how, he thought, how can I convince them? I’m not like Ronan... but I need to try! I must try!